


Avalanche.

by OurLadyMuffin



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Snow, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLadyMuffin/pseuds/OurLadyMuffin
Summary: Cloud realizes that, SOLDIER or not, there is no power a human can wield that can contend with the force of an avalanche.It rocks through him. It yanks him under. Drags and pulls him. White and black and white and black, tumbling around and around - the weight and press of snow so crushing that it’s all he can do to snatch short rasps of breath and Gods where’s Tifa he can’t feel her hand anymore where is she where is shewhere is she-"Following Aerith's unexpected death, Cloud and Tifa work through (some of) their grief over their friend.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Cloud Strife
Comments: 37
Kudos: 233





	Avalanche.

**Author's Note:**

> Initially, I wasn't sure about finishing this one. But big thanks to all the folks that helped push me through. I'm still uncertain about it but, ah, at least it's done. I hope some people enjoy it anyways ^^"

It isn’t supposed to happen like this. 

The planet roars. Cloud can’t move. 

“ _Cloud!”_ Someone grabs his arm. “Run!” Tifa hisses, yanking him so sharply that he tips, stumbling with near blindness after her.

His eyes are pinned to a space above the slope behind them. A cascade of heavy white snow, crashing and thundering down towards them. The crack of trees splintering as the torrent of snow swallows them up. It’s so wide - they can’t outrun it. It’s so fast - they can’t outspeed it. There’s nothing around but wide open space and trees that don’t stand a chance against it. 

He can’t do anything. No sword will cut this down. 

It feels like he’s standing at the altar again. Helpless. Nothing to do but watch as Masumane plunges through the chest of a beloved friend.

Distantly, he hears Barrett shouting for Red and Yuffie to run. Cid - where’s Cid -? Vincent-? They’re going in the opposite direction. Tifa is still clutching onto the thick sleeve of his jacket. If not for the gloves she’s wearing, he’s certain her knuckles would be whiter than the landscape around them. He can’t hear anything but the crash of the approaching avalanche. That, and his heart racing in his ears. And Tifa’s desperate gasps for breath. Tifa. Tifa is still here. She’s still alive. She’s pulling and running and fighting to stay that way. 

He grits his teeth, reaches up and grabs her hand. She glances back at him, carmine eyes wide with panic. 

“Don’t let go,” He says, voice a little strained, “Whatever you do, don’t let go.” 

She nods. “You too.” 

Hand in hand, they run. Plowing through nearly the nearly knee deep snow of the Great Glacier. He can feel the ground shake, harder, closer, louder. Trees snapping around them. Then - white. 

“Tifa-!” His shout is swallowed up by snow. He clutches onto her hand for dear life. He thinks he hears her reply, but he’s drowning in ice. 

Cloud realizes that, SOLDIER or not, there is no power a human can wield that can contend with the force of an avalanche. 

It rocks through him. It yanks him under. Drags and pulls him. White and black and white and black, tumbling around and around - the weight and press of snow so crushing that it’s all he can do to snatch short rasps of breath and Gods where’s Tifa he can’t feel her hand anymore where is she where is she _where is she-_

Something hard crashes into his head and everything goes black. 

* * *

Cloud jolts awake to darkness. 

It hurts to breathe. He can’t see anything. His ears are ringing with how loudly the silence is wrapped around him. His sword is pinned uncomfortably against his back. He tries to lift an arm but can’t. Which way is up? Where is down? He spends a moment fighting back panic. 

Slowly, he tests his fingers first. He can still wriggle them. His arms are pinned awkwardly - one at his side, the other half stretched out. He tries to move his toes. They’re numb, and now that he’s awake, he can feel that they’re throbbing with pain. But, inside his boots, they’re moving. Okay. Nothing broken. 

He manages to wriggle his outstretched arm back towards him. The movement causes the snow around him to groan. Cloud winces, feeling snow collapse downwards into the space where his arm had been. Collapsing _down_. Okay, so he’s facing down. 

Cloud thinks that claustrophobia might be working its way up his list of fears. 

He pushes that thought aside for now. Instead, he takes a slow breath, manages to pull his arms up and tuck them beneath his chest. “One…” He mutters, then realizes it's a bad idea. His breath clouds and makes what little space he has to breathe even stuffier. He swallows dryly, quietly counts down in his head, and heaves upwards. 

Everything creaks in protest. He can feel things shifting. His hands punch small divots into the snow packed beneath him. He heaves again, straining upwards in the most awkward push-up he’s ever had to do. 

Finally, something gives and he bursts through with a sharp gasp. 

It takes him a second to pull his numb legs up and stagger onto his feet. He realizes that the sky is darkening. They’d left for the Great Glacier earlier that morning. The avalanche had been around noon...he’d been out for a long time. He stumbles into a half broken tree, props an elbow up to lean into it. The battered tree creaks but holds steady. He presses the heel of his other gloved hand against his temple, eyes screwing shut as his head pulses with pain.

His face is burning from the cold. His lips are cracked. He’s sore all over but...somehow, alive. Maybe the snow had been fairly loose, so the weight hadn’t been as crushing as it could have been. Maybe he just got lucky. Maybe the others made it too. He remembers hearing their voices running in the other direction. But he...he hadn’t been alone, right? He’d been with-

Tifa.

The name starts him upright. His eyes fly open. Tifa. Where is she? He’s losing light fast. And while he can see reasonably well in the dark, it will still be much harder to spot any colour that might tip him off. 

“Tifa!” His voice is hoarse as he spins around. There’s nothing but snow and crumpled wood around him. He’d let go. God, he’d _let go_. Now how the hell is he supposed to find her? He can see in the dark, but he doesn’t have x-ray vision. 

A small voice whispers in his head. _Failure. You’re supposed to be the hero. First Aerith, and now…?_

Cloud stumbles around blindly. He’s in a thin forest of some sort. There’s a stretch of white plains just off to his right. He can pretty clearly see where the avalanche had come through, judging from the distrubed snow and debris scattered around. But Tifa might be anywhere. He might be standing on top of her and he wouldn’t even know it.

“Tifa!” The snow swallows his call. “ _Tifa!_ ” It’s muffled and small. 

He isn’t sure whether to look around the trees, or out in the open. Cloud ends up stalking right at the border where the treeline is - or used to be, considering the amount of destruction. His eyes dart around with increasing desperation. They’d been on this side of the slope together. She couldn’t have been far. He calls and calls until his voice is hoarse. 

Behind him, the sun throws violet and red ribbons across a rapidly darkening sky. Thick clouds hang liked streaked shadows. The mountain peaks around them catch the glow. The snow is set alight. But Cloud sees none of that. He sees only ice and destruction and failure. 

But then something catches his eye. A shock of red amidst the white. 

His heart leaps up into his throat. 

Cloud stumbles over towards the beacon. His limbs and toes and everything are numb, so his movements are clumsy. But he makes it anyway, snatching up the thick, red band. Tifa’s hairband. “T-Tifa.” He mutters, clutching the band in his hand as he lifts his head again, eyes darting around with renewed vigour. She passed through here. So she must be near. 

Cloud works his search in circles radiating outwards from where he’d found the band. It’s at least easy to keep track of where he’s looked. His footsteps leave a trail behind him. 

Somewhere, in the trees, he finds another burst of red just as the sun is dipping behind the horizon. 

He scrambles towards it again, snatching it up and finding Tifa’s empty boot. There’s snow filling up the inside of it. But Cloud’s eyes are on what’s beneath the boot. There’s something dark that doesn’t look like regular debri. 

Cloud drops the boot as he drops to his knees. Right away, he’s digging. His fingertips burn beneath his woefully inadequate leather gloves. But he digs anyway. He finds her leg first, then another, then more and more, pushing away snow and ice and bits of wood until, thank Gods, he finds Tifa curled in the snow. 

She almost looks like she’s asleep, laying on her stomach, one arm tucked under her head, the other stretched outwards. Snow is caked in her hair and eyelashes, bright white against the dark. Her lips carry a worryingly blue tinge. Her skin is nearly the same colour as the ice clinging to it, unmelting. The jacket they’d picked up in Icicle Inn before heading out is torn and slashed. It’s rucked up. There’s snow on the thin sweater she’s wearing beneath that. Cloud isn’t sure if it’s relief or panic that’s making it hard to breathe, but he ignores it anyways. 

“Tifa,” He says, but there’s no response. He reaches out and gingerly shakes her shoulder, “Tifa?” Still nothing. At this point, he’s spoken her name so many times that part of him wonders if he’s somehow forgotten how to say anything else. 

He tears off his gloves next, pressing two fingers to her neck even though he’s terrified of what he might find. Her skin is as icy as the snow around them. His fingers are so numb he can barely feel anything. 

But he feels it anyway - the faint thud of life.

Cloud wastes little more time. He pulls his glove back on, then gingerly rolls Tifa onto her back. She’s still unresponsive but, at the very least, she doesn’t look _terribly_ injured. Slipping an arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders, he hoists her up. 

He’s just straightened up when he hears it - so faint that even he almost misses the sound, despite mako ears and the silent forest. 

“...Cloud…?”

His eyes immediately drop down to her. Tifa’s head is resting against his shoulder, lolled forward. “Tifa,” He responds, then remembers he can say more words than just her name, “I got you. Just hang on.” 

“S-Sorry I...let go.” 

Cloud tightens his grip on her, starts forcing his feet to move. One in front of the other. “No, Tifa,” He isn’t sure if he’s telling her not to apologize, or not to speak. Probably both. “Rest. I got you.”

Tifa doesn’t respond.

“I got you.” He says, though he isn’t sure who he’s trying to reassure.

He makes his way past the debris, further into the forest, clutching Tifa close. It’s dark now, so he moves carefully, not wanting to trip and drop her. But there’s nowhere to go. Icicle Inn is too far away. Coupled with the steep incline, there’s no way he’ll be able to get Tifa somewhere safe to warm up before…

He doesn’t let himself finish that thought.

The wind whispers the rest anyways.

He turns down the slope. He already knows there’s nothing the other way. Best to take his chances here. Cloud grits his teeth, takes a breath and feels the chill sink into his core. He probably looks no better off than Tifa. Ice and snow cling to his blond hair, weighing them down until they’re sticking to his forehead. His breath clouds thinly, curling up towards the stars. 

Cloud isn’t sure how long he walks. He feels like he’s a few paces shy of collapsing when he finally sees something in the distance. A shadow that doesn’t look like trees. A house? Is it occupied? At this point, he can’t care any less. It’s shelter from the wind and snow, and that’s better than nothing. 

He’s been hypersensitive to the sound of Tifa’s breathing. And while steady, it’s shallow. The cadence makes panic clutch tighter and tighter in his chest.

Somehow, he stumbles towards the structure. It’s a log cabin of some sort. Though, it’s old and half-buried in snow. It doesn’t look like anyone has been around in a while. With one hand, he shoves the wooden door open. Rusty hinges creak, but give way. Inside, there isn’t much. A rudimentary looking fireplace off to the right, with a crooked shelf above it. Some wooden stools. A tattered rug in front of the fireplace. A pile of logs in the corner. A table with dusty dishes, a pile of blankets, and...Gods, _Gods_ \- he nearly weeps with relief - because there’s a small box of _potions_.

Cloud steps inside, kicks the door shut behind him. 

He steps over towards the fireplace first, nudges aside the wooden stools that are getting in the way. Then, slowly, he crouches down, dropping on to his knees as he sets Tifa down on the rug a few feet in front of the fire. “Sorry,” He mutters in a croak, “There’s no bed.” 

She still doesn’t respond. But he can still hear her breathing. It’s enough to give him the strength to swallow back a sick, palpable wash of panic.

Once Tifa is settled on her back, he stands and goes towards the table. It’s marginally warmer in the cabin, but not by much. There’s kindling and a matchbox on the crooked shelf above the fireplace, so Cloud sets about getting a fire started. The cabin is surprisingly well stocked, given how dusty it is. He doesn’t have the energy to wonder why. It’s all he can do to force his trembling hands to cooperate. 

It takes him a while, but he manages to get a fire going. Right away, just the sight of the tiny, growing flame is enough to give him an extra push of energy. He shucks off the pauldron clasped over his jacket, then leans his sword beside the fireplace. Cloud goes and fetches the folded up blankets on the table, as well as the box of potions. Nothing fancy, but there’s enough to, at least, get them through. 

Returning to Tifa’s side, he realizes two things. One, that the snow and ice is now beginning to melt and soak into both their clothing; and two, that staying in wet clothes will do more harm than good. He hesitates. Of course, under normal circumstances, he’d never...He’d...Gods. His eyes drift along Tifa’s prone form. She’s still unconscious, but her sweater and leggings are soaking her in damp cold. The fire is slowly warming up the cabin, but it isn’t going to be able to warm her up with icy water clinging to her like this.

Despite it all, something else twists in his chest. He pushes that away. 

Cloud kneels, and tries to be as clinical as possible as he pulls Tifa up into a half-seated position. He takes off his gauntlets and his gloves, because they’re making it harder than necessary to move his fingers. He works quickly, looking only where it’s _absolutely necessary_ to look as he pushes off her torn jacket, and then peels off her soaked sweater. Her skin is still clammy and cold, but there’s little he can do about that now. 

Now that he’s looking, he notices the gash down the back of her sweater. Beneath that, he can see a scratch that runs down the length of her back. Thankfully, it’s pretty shallow - likely due to all the layers between that and skin. But it does mean that her white top is wet too. Gingerly, he pulls that up and off. Tifa’s left in just her black sports bra, but he doesn’t look. 

Instead, he leaves her propped against him as he reaches back and grabs a blanket. Cloud wraps that quickly around her shoulders, then sets her down. He pulls off her boots first, then her soaked socks. Then, he shimmies her leggings down awkwardly, trying not to think too hard about anything he sees or feels. He doesn’t touch her undergarments past that. 

He isn’t sure if the crackling fire is warming him up now, or something else. 

Either way, he tugs the blankets closer around her form, and sets her down closer to the flame. He lays her clothing out on the wooden stools he’d kicked aside earlier and then...pauses to look down at himself. He bites back a sigh. 

Cloud makes quick work of peeling off his own waterlogged clothing. Jacket, then turtleneck, then boots and socks and pants. It leaves him in just his under shorts. He grabs the last blanket, and drapes it around his shoulders. 

Outside, he hears the wind start to howl. It makes the cabin feel warmer. He doesn’t know which God had been looking over his shoulder, but he sends his thanks their way. 

He returns to Tifa’s side, and is relieved to see that some of that terrifying blue hue is starting to leave her skin. He sits down, then carefully picks her up - still wrapped up in blankets - until she’s sitting between his legs with her back to his front, head against his shoulder. Cloud picks up a bottle of the potion, and carefully pops open the cap. With his free hand, he reaches the other up to push her damp hair out of her face. Carefully, he lifts the potion up to her lips, cradling her jaw so he can part her mouth to tip the potion slowly past her lips. 

It’s slow, tedious work. Some of the potion drips down onto the blanket. But Cloud manages to give her two doses. Already, it’s starting to work. Colour is starting to fill her cheeks. By the time he puts the second empty bottle aside, Tifa’s expression is more like one of sleep than limp nothing that reminds him entirely too much of- 

He takes a sharp swig of a potion, welcoming the acrid taste for distracting him. These are definitely...not the best quality potions. The cheapest ones probably, but still better than nothing. 

With that done, there’s nothing left but to wait out the night. Cloud considers Tifa still propped up against him. Should he lay her down? Reaching up, he cups a hand against her forehead and her cheek, then down the side of her neck. Even if she looks better, she still feels cold to the touch.

Cloud hesitates. Tifa isn’t protesting now because she can’t. What if he does something that accidentally crosses a boundary? What if she wakes up and gets angry? He draws a breath, then sighs slowly. He decides that if Tifa wakes up angry, then at least she _wakes up_. He’d rather that than risk...risk the opposite.

He squeezes his eyes shut a moment. The memory is still too fresh. The cold water lapping at his arms, dragging at his clothing, as he lowered a limp Aerith into the lake. She’d been deadweight in his arms. Cold. In a way that-

He clutches Tifa closer. No. No, she’s not there. It’s not the same. 

Cloud shifts. Gently, he unravels the blankets from around Tifa. He moves her until she’s sitting on his lap, the back of her head resting against his chest. He keeps his legs crossed beneath her, nestling her in the crook they make, hoping to keep her off the cold floor. Once she’s settled, he winds both layers of blankets around them both, before wrapping his arms around her middle. They’re cocooned in front of the fire like this. Already, he can feel warmth starting to gather beneath the blankets. 

For the first time since that day on the altar, Cloud lets himself relax. 

His eyes are half open as they stare at the fire over Tifa’s head. Dimly, he watches the way the fire’s glow catches in her hair. He can’t see her face, but he can hear her breathing. It’s steadier and deeper. He can feel the rise and fall of her breaths against his arms, the shift of her weight against his chest. Maybe, under different circumstances, his mind would bend at the thought that he was holding Tifa this closely, alone in some random cabin in the woods, while wearing hardly anything. But for right now, he’s too tired. For right now, he’s just relieved that she’s okay. 

Everything is a mess. He doesn’t know where everyone else is. He doesn’t know if they’ve lost Sephiroth’s trail after that avalanche. Aerith is dead because he hadn’t been able to protect her. 

But at least, Tifa’s alive. Not buried under snow. Not bleeding out. Not _not_ breathing. Not cold. Not limp. She’s here, right now, in his arms. 

He’s starting to not know who he is anymore. He’s starting to doubt everything. But Tifa’s _here_ . She knows him. She _knew_ him. She’s here. So it’s okay. It’s okay. 

He needs it to be okay.

He tips his head forward a bit, until he’s leaning his head against hers. Unconsciously or not, he nuzzles slightly into her hair. She smells like the snow and mountains. But something warm and familiar beneath it all that soothes something in his tired, aching chest. 

Cloud closes his eyes and grips her closer.

 _Don’t let go_.

* * *

There’d only been white. And then, the feeling like she’d lost something. But she’d been dragged under, got so ensnared by the tide of snow that all she could focus on was how she couldn’t focus on anything. 

She couldn’t remember anything except for the cold after that. 

Then the sound of something familiar. The feeling of being moved. Relief that suddenly seeped through the thick haze her mind was caught in. A pang of guilt, sharp and hot like a knife, stark against the cold that filled everything else. She was being carried. She should be carrying herself. But before she could try, everything had gone dark again.

Slowly, Tifa opens her eyes. 

She stares at something orange and warm in front of her. She watches it a while, the light flickering and dancing while everything slowly clicks back into place. She’s warm. Very warm, in fact. There’s a weight resting against her head, and another snaked around her stomach. She can’t decide if the sensation is familiar or not. It straddles a strange middle.

She looks down, noticing the scratchy blanket that she’s swaddled up in. Tifa draws a slow breath, then realizes that she’s not alone. Blinking some more, she shifts, trying to turn her head to see who’s behind her. She catches a glimpse of blond hair and freezes.

Cloud mutters something, tightens his grip on her. 

Tifa lifts a hand up to rest it against the warm weight at her middle. It’s only then that she realizes that his bare arms are around her. And...that she’s not wearing anything either. Her cheeks flare with heat. Tifa glances around, more awake now. They’re in some sort of a cabin. There’s a fire in front of them that’s going to need a fresh log soon. Empty bottles of potions stand off the side from where they’re sitting on the floor. Come to think of it, there’s a familiar aftertaste still lingering on her tongue. Cloud is asleep behind her...or, around her. Their clothes are draped carefully over some stools near the fireplace (but not too near that she needs to worry about them catching fire). 

It doesn’t take a genius to piece two and two together. 

Her chest aches. She hadn’t been dreaming. The avalanche had happened. They were separated from everyone else, with no way of telling if they were okay. Cloud had found her. Had carried her. Had somehow found this place. And what had she been doing the whole time? Not enough. Again. 

She drew a breath, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to push all that aside. Her grip on Cloud’s arm tightens slightly. 

“...Tifa?” She freezes again, eyes flying back open at the sound of Cloud’s voice so close to her ear. It’s low, rough from sleep, and heavy. He shifts, she can feel him lift his head. “Tifa? Are you awake?” 

“Y-Yeah,” She replies, almost afraid to move. Like this warmth and comfort will leave if she did, even if she isn’t sure she deserves it. Instead, she turns her head a bit to try and look back at him, managing to catch him out the corner of her eye. “Are you okay?” 

She finds herself snagged on the starlit night of his eyes, and the green mako that fleck it. “I should be asking you that,” He said. “You were blue.” Something about the way he says it...Tifa gets the feeling that he isn’t exaggerating. 

She looks back down at herself, though she can’t see anything through the blankets. “I’m okay.” 

Cloud nods. “Good.” 

Tifa lifts her eyes back to his. “And you?” 

“I’m okay.” 

This time, Tifa’s the one to nod. It takes a lot to bring down a SOLDIER. But an avalanche would do it. She’s quiet a moment, averting her gaze. “The others…?”

She feels his grip tighten around her. “I...don’t know. We got split up. I only found you.” He sounds suddenly absolutely worn and beaten. When she looks up again, it’s to find Cloud looking away. She’s noticed that he’s gotten more expressive lately. And that he seems more...open, somehow, with her. And only with her. Tifa isn’t sure what to make of it - whether it’s just wishful imagination on her part, or if it’s true. Either way, right now, Cloud looks ashamed. “I couldn’t...do anything.” _Again_. She hears the word he doesn’t say. 

“Cloud, it isn’t your fault,” She says, rubbing her hand against his arm. “It was an _avalanche_. Nobody can do anything about that.”

He turns his head, looking down at the floor beside them. “I should have known. Or been more careful. Or...something. Maybe if I’d reacted faster then we wouldn’t have gotten separated, at least.” 

Tifa frowns. She can see that he’s beating himself up over this. She can see that he’s _been_ beating himself up, even before this. Gently, she moves his arms off her. He relents without any resistance, like he’s been waiting for her to pull away or something. Instead, Tifa turns so that she’s facing him, her legs on either side of him. The blanket shifts and droops. 

“Cloud, SOLDIER or not, you’re still human,” She says, reaching up beneath the blanket to put a hand on his bicep. Her hand presses against bare skin. He’s so warm. “You couldn’t have predicted the avalanche.”

Cloud still isn’t looking at her. His hands rest limply at her sides. He’s still staring down at the ground, a distant look in his eyes. She watches him quietly. The firelight playing at his hair and his features, flickering in his eyes in a way that makes her heart ache and ache. “I should’ve known to be more careful. I could’ve done more if I was more careful.”

Tifa shakes her head. “And what about me? Or any of the others? We could have been more careful too. We should’ve known better too.” Her hand slides up to his shoulder, gripping tight. “Do you blame us, Cloud? Do you blame me?”

This time, his eyes dart up to hers. “No, never.” He says in a breath, holding her gaze a moment before he wavers again and looks away. “But everyone...was counting on me. And I...I let them all down.” 

It isn’t about the avalanche anymore.

“Cloud,” She waits, but he still won’t look at her. Gently, she reaches a hand up, cups the side of his head, tries to encourage him towards her. Slowly, he turns his head to face her, but his eyes are still downcast. The blankets droop some more. “Cloud. It’s not your fault.” 

His eyes close. There’s so much in just the furrow between his brows. 

Tifa lifts her other hand up. She doesn’t know if this is too much. Too close. Too intimate. Part of her wants to pull away and step back and give him space. But there’s no space here. In this tiny cabin, in this dark wood, surrounded by snow. There’s only the fire and them, and the weight of everything that had happened threatening to crush them both. So she brushes a finger gently at the furrow between his brow, presses it down to smooth it out. Beneath her hand, she feels him tense. 

“It’s not your fault.” She murmurs again. 

His breathing is measured. His eyes open to look at her. “Tifa-” He says. His voice creaks, “She’s gone.” 

Tifa’s throat clamps up. She swallows, fighting through it because Cloud needs her now, and if she starts crying, it’s only going to make things worse. So she beats back her grief and nods. “I know. It’s still not your fault.” She says, both hands cradling either side of his face now. 

His arms slide up to wrap around her again. His head tips forward a little. He’s leaning more into her hands. She can feel the weight of his head resting against her palms. “I was the only one there, Tifa. I... _saw_ it happen but I couldn’t...couldn’t do anything.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I even tried to hurt her. I almost…” 

She rubs her thumbs over his cheeks gently. His skin is a bit rough, dry from the cold. “But you didn’t. And you couldn’t have known about Sephiroth’s plans,” She tells him, voice as gentle as her touch. “No matter _what_ , you’re still only _human_. And sometimes...things happen that no human can do anything about.” Tifa pauses, hesitating. Her thumbs pause. Her gaze flickers. 

“Besides, we were there too. We should have gone up with you. There were so many things that I - I-I mean, we...we could have done differently.” She’s looking down at the blanket between them. There’s a gap in the fabric between them. She sees nothing but shadows in that space. His fingers dig deep into her sides. The feeling yanks her out of her thoughts as she looks up at him again. 

“ _Tifa_.” There’s so much pain - so much packed in the way he says her name. Cloud shakes his head against her hands. “It’s not on you.”

It’s getting harder to fight back tears. Tifa bites her lower lip, because she’s starting to feel it wobble with each breath. She holds his head tighter. “Then it’s not on you either.” 

Cloud doesn’t say anything, but she gets the feeling that he doesn’t believe her. She gets the feeling that there’s something more than he isn’t saying. Tifa starts to wonder how much pain her heart can take before it crumbles entirely. She looks into his eyes and sees the anguish swirling behind them. How much pain can _his_ heart take before _his_ crumbles entirely? 

His eyes drop down.

“...I miss her.” He breathes. The statement hangs in the air.

It’s the first time they’ve really spoken about this. So much had happened since Aerith was laid to rest in the lake. They’d been keeping busy for the sake of keeping their minds off everything that...this is the first, real, quiet moment they’ve had to really mourn their friend. Not just wallow in their own guilt. Not just curse Sephiroth. Not just focusing on the mission and what they needed to do. But to sit and feel the loss. 

Of course, it takes an avalanche for all this to happen.

Tears threaten to well up in her eyes. Her vision blurs. Tifa brushes her thumbs across his cheeks again. Like this, so close, under the wash of firelight, Cloud looks so fragile. He doesn’t look like he’s got mako in him. He doesn’t look like an ex-SOLDIER. He doesn’t look like a hero. He just looks like that boy from Nibelheim. Freckles splatter his cheeks like the stars in the sky of that promised night.

“I miss her too.” She murmurs. 

His grip tightens on her. Tifa hesitates a second, then shifts closer. But his arms around her remain just as firm. She hesitates again...then allows herself to be pulled in close, until her arms are wrapped around his neck and his head is tucked against the side of hers. Just like that, the sliver of shadow between them - gone. She can feel his fingers digging into her back, one hand clutching onto a fistful of her hair. She holds the back of his, pushing her hand through his soft, blond locks. They don’t say a word. They just sit and cling onto each other as the fire crackles in the background, as grief drags them under and pushes and pulls. 

The silence is thick. She can feel him fighting to steady himself. Tifa clutches tighter. Then, barely audible over the cackle of the fire - “I thought...I was gonna’ lose you too.” 

Pain lances her chest. “I’m sorry.” She whispers against his neck. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. Wisps of his hair tickle her shoulder. “No. No, it’s not your fault.” He says with quiet conviction. Then he pauses, draws a breath that she can feel still tremble the whole way in. “I can’t...I can’t…” He trails off, then squeezes her so tightly that she almost can’t breathe. She can feel him trying to find his words. “I can’t... _lose_ you too, Tifa - not like that, I…” He manages to say, before his voice gives out.

Tifa bites her lower lip. She squeezes her eyes shut. He’s holding her so tightly that she can’t breathe, but she thinks she wouldn’t be breathing anyways, even if he wasn’t clutching onto her like this. Her chest aches and aches and _aches_. “I’m right here, Cloud,” She says, squeezing him back as she presses her forehead against his neck. “I’m right here. I won’t let go. I promise.” 

Cloud is quiet for a long couple heartbeats before she feels him pull back. Tifa loosens her grip so he can move. He doesn’t retract very far. In fact, he’s still close enough that she can feel his breath lace with her own. Her eyes are locked on his. There’s a softness beneath the agony. Her heart lodges itself in her throat. 

“...Okay.” He breathes. She can tell that the pain and guilt is all still there. Just that, now... there’s something else too. Something else that roots her in place, makes her terrified to breathe lest she do something to snuff out this impossibly fragile moment. Tifa remains frozen as Cloud reaches up, brushing back some hair out of her face and tucking it behind her cheek. He leans in, resting his forehead against hers. 

“Thanks, Tifa.” 

She swallows, nodding a little against him. Her hands grip his shoulders. He’s so close. They’ve never been this close before - at least, not outside of battle. “W-Will you promise too?” She blurts, then snaps her mouth shut. Tifa glances aside, fingertips digging into him. Everything is tight. There’s so much coiled in every ounce of her being, threatening to snap at any second. “Because I can’t...I-I’m the same, you know. Same as you.” Because she’s already lost him once before, when he left Nibelheim. And then again, when he’d plunged into the fire and destruction in Midgar. _Loss_ . There’s been so much of that. He’s one of the few, precious things she’s _gained_.

Her fingers dig deeper. “I also can’t…can’t...” Not anymore. She can’t lose _anyone_ anymore. Cloud, least of all. 

“Tifa, I promise.” His voice snaps her out of her thoughts. Her eyes dart up to his again. They’re fixed on her. This time, there’s conviction shining in front of everything else. She tries to breathe, but it comes as a ragged gasp instead. 

Finally, she snaps. 

Tears come dripping down her cheeks. She makes a sound like a pained laugh. “Okay.” He’s reaching up to hold her face, to push away the tears. “Okay.” She repeats. He’s leaning closer. Her eyes close. Tears continue to fall freely even as his lips find hers.

Cloud kisses so carefully, shifting his lips so gently against hers like he’s afraid that she might break if he goes any harder. But he breaks some part of her anyways. Makes her chest ache and her throat tighten because he’s so sweet - he’s _always_ been so sweet - but so much has happened that he doesn’t deserve. That _neither_ of them deserves. 

She tilts her head and presses harder, because she doesn’t want him to be afraid when it comes to her. Tifa kisses Cloud, tries to put all the words she doesn’t know how to say into the press of her lips against his. _Don’t let go. Don’t let go of me._

_Don’t let go of us._

Cloud is the one to pull back with a shaky breath. Tifa opens her eyes, and catches the glint of moisture on his cheeks. Her own are no better off. Her hands slide up to hold the sides of his neck as she leans up and kisses the tears off his cheeks. 

The salt stings the cracks in her lips.

“I promise, Tifa.” He murmurs as she kisses down his cheek. His hands grip her waist, squeezing then letting go, then palming up her sides. “I promise. I promise.” He’s blubbering a bit, and it makes her want to do the same. Instead, she leaves more insistent kisses down the side of his neck. 

“Me too, Cloud,” She says into his skin, voice thick as his hands rub over her back. They’re hot against her skin. The blankets shift some more. Her lips move down to the crook of his shoulder, her hands drop to rub over the planes of his chest, then further along to his sides. “I promise too.” 

He tugs her in closer. Tifa lets him. She presses up flush against him, chest against his own. “Tifa…” Her name trembles slightly when he says it. His hands are spread against her back. The heat is visceral.

Tifa lifts her head, looks up to see him looking down at her. They’re both a mess. Tear stained, smelling of alpine air, wrapped in some scratchy blanket, washed in firelight on the floor of a dusty cabin in the woods. Yet, none of that matters. Nothing matters except the press of his hands against her back, and her fingers digging into his sides. Nothing except for the scant few millimeters between their lips, and the uneven breaths they share. 

Tifa sits up until her forehead nudges his. Her eyes drop half shut, carmine against azure. “Cloud.” She speaks his name in a thick murmur. Except there’s a question in his name. _What is this? What does this mean? Is this okay?_

Too many questions. All of it answered when Cloud draws a breath and nods. 

Tifa tilts her head slowly. Cloud isn’t moving. He’s still looking down at her, thick lashes dropping down lower over his eyes as she leans closer. Her lips brush against his. The ghost of something more. Tifa feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff. Her chest feels so full that she might explode. So tight that her heart threatens to break. His breath skims warmly over her lips. There’s a tension in the moment that she wants to commit to memory. This is them making another promise. Come hell or high water. _Don’t let go._

She takes a breath and closes that distance. 

This time, there’s more desperation when she kisses him, and when he responds. She parts her lips and feels him mirror her movements. Tifa presses her tongue against his, tastes that familiar acrid flavour of potions, and something far, far more enticing. She curls a hand in his hair, the other grips the back of his neck. Cloud presses his palm into her back, his other hand slides down to her thigh. He grips tighter onto her, fingers digging into the muscle. 

She’s dizzy with it all - the depth of the feeling, the relief of his touch, the uncertainty and fear that still plagues them. Everything is there, bare and raw, in the hard press of their bodies. 

Cloud starts to shift. He holds her close against himself as he pushes up, tilts her back, supporting her weight with one hand while the other keeps her leg pinned to his side. Tifa clutches onto him. She doesn’t let go. He lays her back gently onto the ground. The blanket splays out beneath her, while another hangs from the broad width of his shoulders. 

When they break the kiss again, Cloud lifts his head only a moment to look down at her. His eyes scan over her face like he’s drinking every bit of her features. And then, he dips down to kiss down her throat. Just the feeling of that alone nearly makes her tear up again. Tifa swallows thickly against his lips. Her hands tangle in his hair, her legs stay wrapped stubbornly around his waist. 

His hands slide up to her sides. They move up and down in slow, careful caresses. His kisses are the same. She can feel every ounce of uncertainty behind them, even as he kisses the base of her throat. Is this his first time? He kisses further down, right to the slope of her breast, over her heart, against the edge of her bra. She’s having trouble believing it’s his first time. Beneath his lips, her heart thrums. She wonders if he can tell.

“Tifa,” He murmurs against her. Cloud pauses, then tilts his head down to rest his forehead against her. He holds still just like that. She shifts her head to look down, seeing the way his eyes are squeezed tight. “I don’t...I don’t know.” 

“It’s okay, Cloud, it’s okay.” She soothes, hands carding slowly through his hair. They didn’t have to go any farther. Even this is enough for her.

“...Is it?” He asks so quietly she almost misses it, even if she feels the words when he speaks it against her skin. Tifa doesn’t say anything. She waits, watching as he lifts his head to look up at her, his hands still gripping her sides. This time, she can see the uncertainty and doubt, hesitation and everything else in his gaze as it catches the flirelight. Blue and green and gold. 

Tifa worries her bottom lip a moment, letting her hand slip down to the side of his face. “What do you want, Cloud?” She asks softly after a beat of silence. He’s quiet, but she can see him struggling to find the answer. He’s thinking back and ahead and all the spaces inbetween. She cups his cheek. “Just for right now. Just for tonight...What do you want?” 

She watches the way her question helps his gaze focus. He looks at her. For a second, it’s like he’s seeing her for the first time again. “What I want…?” He repeats in a breath. 

Tifa nods.

“You. I want you.” He says, then pauses. Cloud shakes his head, “No, I...I _need_ you.” 

Her vision blurs again. Tifa blinks and feels wet heat trickle down her temples. “I’m right here, Cloud.” She says, her voice cracking as she murmurs his name. “I’m right here, right now.” 

Her hero. Her poor, broken, anguished hero. All that time she spent training so hard to fight, thinking that he might wind up being so occupied trying to play the role that nobody else will watch his back...Only for her to realize, now, that the kind of help he needs isn’t the kind that comes from fists. 

“It’s my turn.” Tifa says through a wet smile, because she can see that Cloud’s on the cusp of questioning it all again. “I got you.” 

His breath shakes. Cloud nods. He pushes up and rests his forehead against hers again. It looks like he’s going to say something more, but instead, he dips down and catches her lips in hers. It’s harder this time. More certain. Acceptance - she feels it seeping through, and gladly welcomes it all. 

His hands push up to hold her further up, thumbs skirting the sides of her breasts. Tifa rubs her hands down his neck. Slowly, his fingers find the underside of her sports bra and pushes them up and off as he tilts his head and kisses her deeper. His tongue probes her as his hands glide up to cup her breasts. He’s still being so careful as he presses into her, like he’s luxuriating in their heft and softness while he still can. Like he’s expecting even this to get snatched away.

Tifa hums encouragingly. Wants him to know that she isn’t going anywhere.

Cloud breaks the kiss with a gasp, but quickly dips down to press his lips to the side of her neck. Tifa thinks she can still feel moisture skim her skin anyways. Another pulse of ache reverberates through her chest. She rubs her hands up the back of his head, tangling fingers in his hair. “Oh, Cloud…” 

He doesn’t respond. He only continues to kiss down her shoulder, then over her collar. Her bra is bunched up there, so he pushes them up. Tifa lifts her hands and helps slip them off as he continues to leave kisses all over her. He kisses the chill and firelight off her skin, leaves one lingering over her heart, then moves on. He finds a hardened peak, hesitates only a second, before dipping in and wrapping his lips around it in a slow, deliberate suck. 

Tifa arches up off the ground and into him in reply. She’s starting to feel heat flush her chest and the rest of her body - all of it in stark contrast to brisk air around them. His eyes are closed. He laves his tongue broadly against her peak, expression focused and reverent. Tifa’s breath catches audibly, her fingers curl around more of his hair. It’s been so long. Everything feels so sharp. Cloud lets go with a gasp, but immediately turns to find her other breast. The heat of his mouth around one, and the cold air licking at the slick skin of the other - it makes her head spin. 

She arches up into him, hands pulling him down closer. Cloud comes along without resistance, pressing closer against her as his hands rub down to grip her waist. “A-Ahh…” She’s left with only sounds to express how it all feels, her brows furrowed slightly as she concentrates on his lips on her, his tongue rubbing to and fro, his face nuzzled so close.

Cloud lets go, but he still isn’t looking at her. Instead, he kisses the valley between her breasts, trailing his lips down further as his hands find her panties. They stay there. He kisses over every dip and curve of her abs as he shifts down lower. It’s all she can do to not writhe beneath him.

Finally, Cloud pulls away just as his lips start to skim beneath her bellybutton. Tifa watches as he pushes up on his knees, hands on her hips. He’s glowing in the firelight. Shadows thrown across his form in all the right ways, accentuating the long sweep of his collar, the planes of his chest, the hard ridges of muscle that line his stomach - that give way to a languid trail of blond hairs, and sharp angles arcing over his hips and down…

Her eyes dart up to find him staring down at her too. Tifa swallows thickly. There’s that tension in the air again, so palpable that she almost expects electricity to start sparking. 

Instead, Cloud tugs her panties down her legs. He lifts her legs as he slips them off, pushing the long lines of her legs up higher until the frail piece of clothing comes off entirely. He doesn’t lower her legs down right away. Instead, he parts them, turns his head to kiss along the inside of one leg, lips crawling heat from her shin up...and up...until he’s just at mid thigh. Then, he stops and lowers her legs down. Only then does Tifa remember to breathe.

Tifa glances down, catching a glimpse of something straining against the front of his undershorts just before he shifts closer and leans over her. “Tifa,” He says, pulling her attention back up to his face. His expression is quiet despite the faint flush of colour she can see on his cheeks. “Are you sure?” 

Reaching up, she holds the sides of his neck. She nods, “If you are.” 

Cloud nods, then curves over her as one of his hands moves up to cradle the side of her head. He tilts his head and kisses her temple on the other side. Tifa feels him let go of her hip as he shifts around. The blanket slips off his shoulders completely, dropping to pool on the ground around them instead. She wraps her arms around his neck, anticipation coiling in her gut. And then, she feels him pressing down against her.

Tifa draws a sharp breath at the sensation. He’s hot and heavy against her slick heat. Cloud presses his forehead against her temple, his fingers pushing into her dark locks. Then, he begins to move. Tifa feels his length drag back, then push back up again. He grinds up against her clit, pulling a small gasp from her. Before she can properly recover, Cloud is already pulling his hips back again. He settles into a slow, steady rhythm, grinding himself over her sweet spot to and fro. 

Tifa’s hips pitch up into his. She screws her eyes shut, lips parted to drag in increasingly ragged breaths. Her legs pull apart wider. He nestles closer against her heat, her slickness coating the underside of his length as he draws sharper and sharper gasps from her. “O-Oh, Cloud, Cloud-” She bubbles, turning to press increasingly clumsy kisses into his hair. She can feel and hear his rasps muffled into her own locks. “Please. _Please_.”

Wordlessly, Cloud draws his hips back further and further, until his tip drops down and catches at the epicentre of all her heat and coiled anticipation. He pauses there. This time, she thinks she actually feels the electricity crawl through the air at the tension of the _potential_. The tension that comes from the fact that he’s right there. That they’re on the cusp of crossing another boundary. That teetering, swirling feeling of staring over the edge of something.

Cloud presses forward. 

Tifa’s lips part in a silent cry. 

His movement is slow. Steady as she splits apart around him. Fuller and fuller, until his hips nestle against her own. Cloud’s breathing is properly ragged against her ear. He has her hair caught in a fist. 

She rocks up into him. They both muffle a groan at the sensation. The stretch of him is delicious. The heat. The pressure. The presence. 

Tifa rocks again. Cloud groans, and grinds down harder into her. Slowly, he pulls his hips back a bit. Before Tifa can whine in complaint at the emptiness, he thrusts inwards. She keens up into him in reply. 

They settle into a rhythm. He pumps. She grinds. They cling onto each other.

Tifa can feel Cloud’s movements starting to grow more erratic. She clutches the hair of the back of his head tighter. Her other hand grips his shoulders, fingers deeping deep crescents into his skin. Her chest heaves up into his, breasts pressing tight against his collar. Dully, she hears the clap of his hips into hers. The crackle the fire. The howl of a blizzard. Mostly she hears him gasping her name in short, erratic bursts. 

“T-Tifa, Tifa, a-hahh- T- _Tifa_...!” He doesn’t say much else. He doesn’t need to. Tifa feels her heart leap up into her throat anyways. She feels tears pressing behind her eyes. 

“Cloud-” She manages, voice cracking. Letting go of him a moment, Tifa reaches up to grip his head and urge him up. His hips plunge into her - _deep_ into her. She cries out softly, bucking up into him and rocking and rocking as he grinds down into her. Cloud lifts his head. Tifa looks up and sees that his cheeks are damp. His eyes are glassy and burning. 

Tifa wraps her legs around him, all but yanking him down closer. He digs deeper. She’s teetering right on the edge as tears trickle down her temples again. “I’m right here. Ri-Right here-” She rocks up into him. She can feel that they’re both aching for release. Tifa lifts her head up to press her forehead into his. Their eyes lock. “I won’t let go. I won’t. I _won’t_.” 

She doesn’t know who drops off the edge first. 

Cloud presses his forehead into hers so tight it hurts. He comes with a sharp crush of his hips into her own, letting out a sound caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob. Tifa clutches onto him as she hits her limit alongside him. Each wave of pleasure that crashes through her wrenches a small, wanton cry. 

Her cries peter out as a slow warmth fills every nook and crevice of her body. 

Tifa doesn’t notice the tears until she feels Cloud reach up to cup her cheek. She blinks, looking up to see he’s not much better off. Tifa swallows thickly. Cloud dips down and kisses the moisture off her skin. When he pulls back, Tifa tips up and catches his lips. 

The salt stings the cracks of her heart. 

They stay like this a while longer, sharing silent kisses and quiet breaths. Until, finally, Cloud pushes up. “We should sleep.” He says. Tifa agrees with a nod

With the heat of the moment over now, the night chill begins to make itself much more apparent. Cloud adds another log or two to the fire while Tifa instructs him on the ideal placement for it. Once that is settled, they stretch out near the flames and share two layers of blankets. They lay facing each other, Cloud wrapped around Tifa as she nestles close against him. 

She kisses his collar as his hand skims up her back. Cloud leans his head down, burrowing into her hair. Tifa is tempted to ask...what happens now? They’d cross this line together in this secluded forest, but once they leave it - and they had to, at some point - what happens? Will they be any different? Will things change? She closes her eyes. Part of her almost doesn’t want to sleep, despite the exhaustion that drags at her bones. She doesn’t want to wake up to face a reality away from Cloud’s warmth and closeness. 

As though reading her thoughts, she feels Cloud brush a kiss against the top of her head. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his hand slides up to cradle the back of her head instead, dark hair slipping between the cracks of his fingers. He tucks her close, gently coaxing her into a deep relaxation despite the floor jabbing uncomfortably into her shoulder. 

She exhales, allowing herself to sink into him. 

He’d promised. Whatever happens, he’d promised he’d stay. For now, that will have to be enough for her. 

Tifa thinks she hears Cloud murmur something under his breath. But by then, she’s already dropping off to sleep, so she doesn’t quite catch it when he leaves his words in her hair.

_I love you._

* * *

The next morning, they wake up with a plan. They’ll go back to where they’d gotten separated from everyone. They’ll search. Maybe the others got out of it alright too. Maybe they’ll find signs of that. It isn’t much of a plan, but at least it’s something. 

They get dressed. Thankfully, their clothes are dry (if a little cold, from sitting out so long). Tifa’s jacket is ripped, but it’s still better than nothing. Cloud insists that she take one of the blankets, to add an extra layer and keep off the worst of the chill that might seep in through the torn jacket. 

The sun rises and they still don’t speak about last night. 

Just as they are getting ready to head out, Cloud pauses. His eyes flicker over to the cabin doors. Tifa is still busy zipping up her jacket, but she looks over at him when she notices him reach back to grab his sword. He glances back at her, then over to the door. Tifa picks up on the hint easily enough, turning a frown to the door as she shifts into position, fists lifting up in front of her. 

A moment later, someone knocks on the door. “Hello? I’m coming in.” The voice is male and unfamiliar. A bit gruff, but non-threatening. 

Cloud frowns, but keeps his hand wrapped around the grips of his sword. Tifa tilts her head a bit, steps forward slightly as the door creaks open. Bright, white light slips in through a crack first, before sweeping outwards as the door opens up more. Standing in the doorway is a man with thick, grey hair and mutton chops that drop down to a bushy moustache across his upper lip. 

“Oh, thank Gods you two found this hut,” He says when he looks up to regard Cloud and Tifa. He’s dressed in worn winter clothing, boots tracking in some snow as he takes a step into the hut. 

“Who are you?” Cloud asks coolly, hand still on his sword.

The man is quick to lift his hands up. “My name’s Holzoff. I live around here,” He explained quickly, “I came out when I heard that avalanche yesterday. Your friends are in my cabin.” 

Tifa drops her hands down and steps forward, “Is everyone okay? Barrett, Cid, Yuffie, Red, and Vincent? All of them?” There’s almost a desperate edge to her voice.

Holzoff blinks, shaking his head a little, “I don’t reckon I got all their names but, uh, I did find five of them. Four, actually, plus the dog...thing.” He replies, “But yes they’re okay. A bit shaken up and sprained, and worried sick about you two.” He adds, looking between them again, and at the freshly snuffed up fire in the fireplace. “I’ll take you to my cabin, if you’ll follow me.” 

“Yes.” Tifa replies quickly, before turning to look at Cloud. “We’re ready to go, right?” 

Cloud draws a breath, letting it out carefully. Truthfully, the relief that is washing through him threatens to knock him off his feet. But he lowers his hand instead and nods as he meets Tifa’s eyes. “Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Holzoff nods. “Right. It’s a bit of a hike - are you sure you’ll be able to handle it?” 

Cloud steps forward as Holzoff starts to move out of the cabin. “We’ll be okay.” He says, pausing as he draws up to Tifa’s side. He hesitates a second, then reaches out and takes her hand, clasping it firmly in his own. He looks at her, tilting his head in the direction of the open door. “Right?” 

Tifa stares up at him. She squeezes his hand and smiles. “Right.” 

They step out of the cabin, following after Holzoff. Cloud grips Tifa’s hand as Tifa clutches his. 

They don’t let go. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed that, feel free to[say 'hi' on my twitter!](https://twitter.com/ourladymuffin)


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